Black Spells & Twisted Souls (Grey Witch Book 1)

by Cece Rose

  It’s never long enough.

  Four

  Dead Bodies & Iced Lattes

  Feeling cautiously optimistic, I take a sip from my iced latte as the lift doors slide open to reveal the office floor. I can only hope the demon has already gotten to work on getting rid of my boss, and that today will be a day free of his irritating presence.

  I spot Lizzy already sitting at our adjoining desks and head straight over to her. I'm eager to share the insanity of last night and get it off my chest to the one person who won’t freak on me for summoning a demon. I bite my lip. She wouldn't freak, would she? I mean, it's not illegal to summon a demon, just really, really frowned upon. Especially for white witches like us.

  A body walks straight into mine, and I gasp as my ice-cold latte spills all over my new work dress. I look up and see a startled Gideon staring at me with wide eyes. I can feel the drink soaking into my dress which, as I look down, has gone a little transparent over my chest. Looking back up, I glare at the pesky human. Why did I save the newbie's job again?

  “I'm s-so sorry,” he fumbles out, his lips trembling over the words. I exhale, letting out my fury with my breath. He didn't mean it. Don't curse him with spots. Don't do it.

  “It's okay, I should have been looking where I was going,” I mutter glumly. My attention flicks towards Lizzy who is watching me with a sympathetic look. “Excuse me,” I say, darting past him and heading for the staff toilets to clean up. I'm pretty sure he calls something after me, but I ignore it, deciding to choose avoidance over snapping at the human. He looks terrified enough as it is.

  I push open the door to the toilets, and once I've checked that all the stalls are empty, I whisper a small spell to lock the main door behind me. I turn and face the mirrors, feeling my cheeks flame when I catch a glimpse of my reflection. The light brown liquid has not only completely stained the dress, but my light-purple bra is now easily visible through the wet material.

  “Grandma always said bad luck comes in threes,” I tell my reflection, as I desperately try to recall two other things I can pin on the bad-luck trilogy. I need to come up with something so I can relax, knowing my troubles are over. Bad boss creeped on me again, check. Ruining that hair-removing potion, check. This totally makes three things. I breathe out deeply. My bad luck is over, it has to be.

  I hold out my hands and think of the smart-looking black jumpsuit I own. The top of the jumpsuit has a cute lattice design that covers enough to be professional, but is still flattering. Concentrating on the clothing, I call it from its place in the wardrobe at home to my hands. The pressure increases between my hands, and with a small flash of light, it appears unscathed in my grip. This is one of my favourite spells, one I’d spent months practicing until it was perfect. I’m finally at the point of not even needing to use words, despite the complexity of the spell. It is nothing compared to what some high-level witches can pull off, but it is the toughest spell I can do wordlessly.

  I pull off the ruined dress, shoving it roughly into my bag before quickly redressing into the jumpsuit, trying not to tumble over in my heels as I do. I’m only just able to squeeze my feet through the legs of the jumpsuit without taking my heels off, but there is no way I'm going barefoot on the floor in here. I look down at the sticky-looking, definitely-hasn't-been-mopped-in-the-last-few-months grey floor. Nope. Not a chance.

  I take a final look at my reflection, fixing my hair a little where it's messed up from pulling clothes on and off, before grabbing my bag off the counter and heading for the door. I press my hand to the door, unlocking it with ease, and walk back out into the office.

  I again make a beeline for Lizzy, but I look out for people who may crash into me this time. I notice that someone has cleaned up the mess of the latte on the floor, probably the human newbie. I slump down into my seat and meet Lizzy's eyes.

  “You just can't walk in or out of here without making a scene, can you?” she teases. She gestures at my change of clothes. “How are you going to explain that?”

  “I was planning on saying I had it in my bag, for our after-work drink later,” I reply. She nods, accepting her place in the lie to protect the magical secret we share should any questions arise from the human side of our office.

  “It looks good on you. We really should go for that drink,” she suggests. “Wait a minute. Turn around a sec, Kay,” she adds, and I turn away, letting her see the back. I feel her hands brush over my neck as she does up the button at the back I'd completely forgotten about.

  “Thanks,” I say, as I turn back to face her.

  “No problem,” she says cheerily, before turning to face her computer screen.

  “I took your advice,” I blurt out, and she freezes, her hands hovering over her keyboard but no longer typing.

  “You looked in your Grandma's book?” she asks.

  “I did. I used one of the spells, too. Let's just say, I don't think Jay will be an issue anymore,” I answer with a smug smile, taking care to keep the volume low to make sure no humans overhear us.

  “That's great, Kayla! You'll have to tell me more later, when we're somewhere a little more private.” She gives me a knowing look. Yeah, we'd talk when we were somewhere there aren’t lots of human ears around. “Shit, you weren't kidding!” she exclaims, pointing at an email on her screen. I lean over, reading the subject line: Important meeting in the glass room at 9 a.m. Mandatory attendance.

  “You think that's...?” I muse, my smile widening. Demon didn't mess around.

  “I can't think of anything else. It's from Clive. He never calls meetings for us,” she replies with a shrug, looking convinced. A thrill rushes through me at the fact I've succeeded. She's right, Clive is the big boss, and he never calls our meetings, just the ones for the managers. I look at the recipients of the email and see that everyone on our team is listed, but not Jay. His name is suspiciously missing. I grin.

  “Well, we have a whole two minutes to prepare our surprised faces,” I say, turning to face her. I cover my cheeks with my hands and open my mouth into a shocked expression.

  Her jaw drops, and her eyes widen as she gasps, clapping a hand over her chest. My hands drop from my face as we dissolve into fits of giggles.

  Clive walks past us, looking particularly pale as he gives us a derisive look. We fall silent from the impact of it. He heads straight into the glass room without a word, though, taking a seat at the head of the table.

  I look nervously between him and Lizzy, not liking just how unsettled he seemed. It seems a bit much for only having to sack a manager. Maybe it was for something really bad, like embezzling company funds or something? I'm about to share my thoughts when Paul and Darren walk over, stopping by our desks.

  “You two coming?” Darren asks, in his usual rich, smoky voice.

  “Yup,” Lizzy answers before I can. I stand up with her, following the guys into the glass room. We settle into our seats there, watching as the last few stragglers from our team file in, with Gideon pulling up the rear. He ends up standing against the wall because there aren’t enough seats.

  “Thank you everyone for being present. It's with great sadness that I make this announcement,” Clive begins, and I smile at Lizzy, feeling my own excitement reflected in her eyes. “Jay won't be coming in today. He's...” he trails off, as if unable to complete his sentence. I frown as I focus on him, feeling everyone else paying just as much attention. “He's passed away,” he finally finishes. My jaw genuinely drops this time, from actual disbelief. I turn, meeting Lizzy's eyes which are filled with reproach and accusation. I shake my head slightly, trying to communicate that this wasn’t me. I’m innocent. I didn't do this. Did I?

  Did the demon renege on our deal and kill my boss? Would I be legally responsible for that? Maybe it was an accident. Anything could have happened.

  “The police are currently investigating, and they’re treating the death as suspicious. If any of you have any information, I will be handing out some cards given to me by Detecti
ve Inspector Huxley earlier this morning.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “I'm sorry to be the one to give this news to you. I'm sure it comes as a great sadness and shock to you all. We will do everything we can as your employer to support you through this loss and grief. If any of you feel you need to leave, this will be allowed today without exception. If you require more time, please speak with Monica in the HR office, she can make the necessary arrangements for your leave.”

  We all sit in silence, nobody knowing how to respond. It’s a huge shock, and what’s worse is that nobody in the team would truly be saddened by the loss of our manager. He was rude, perverted, and downright mean to all those who encountered him. However, none of us would wish death upon anyone, even someone like him. It’s an awkward, tense moment, where we’re all suspended as if in a moment of denial and disbelief, before it begins to sink in. The door slams as someone leaves, jolting us from the moment. I look around the table at everyone still seated. Why did the newbie leave like that?

  Slowly, people begin to talk quietly, addressing questions to Clive and each other. A few more people leave. I feel numb, stuck to my seat, until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  “Are you okay, Kayla?” Darren whispers, and I nod mutely, finally pulling myself to my feet. Lizzy is standing by the door, giving me a concerned look. Hurrying past her, I head straight to the toilets and manage to lock myself in a stall just as I feel the vomit burning my throat. I collapse down, practically hugging the toilet bowl as I throw up my breakfast muffin and the leftover booze coating my stomach from last night. Once the entire contents of my stomach have been dredged up, I fall back, leaning against the side of the stall numbly. I sit on the gross bathroom floor in silence, listening to the loud thumping of my heart as it hammers in my chest.

  A light knock hits against my stall door. “Kay… can I come in?” Lizzy’s voice comes through softly. I try to answer, but my lips won’t work, no sound will come out. This is my fault. The demon took it too far, and now Jay’s dead. I’m a murderer. “Kay?” she calls again gently. After not answering again, I hear the door unlocking itself, and I look up as she slips inside. She shuts the door behind her, before crouching down onto the floor next to me. It’s a tight squeeze, but I’m secretly glad for her company.

  “I… I didn’t,” I begin, but I start to struggle to breathe, as harsh, sharp breaths come in and out. I feel like I’m desperately trying to suck in air, and it’s just never enough. Lizzy rubs her hand soothingly over my back.

  “I know you didn’t, honey. Just breathe, it’ll be okay. It’s just a coincidence. I know you wouldn’t do this,” she says calmly, and her reassurance and belief in me makes the tears start falling. I cry against her shoulder as she holds me tightly in a reassuring hug. I cry until I have nothing left, and my head is pounding. The guilt of my actions weighs heavily on me, and as much as I try to reason with myself that I told the demon not to kill him, I was a fool for trusting it. This is on my shoulders, and it’s a burden I’ll have to bear. Looking into Lizzy’s eyes, I knew I’d have to lie to her. I couldn’t tell her what really happened, she’d never look at me the same.

  “I need to go home,” I mumble, and Lizzy nods, standing up and offering me a hand. I gratefully take it, letting her help pull me up. I flush away the vomit, embarrassed and a little disgusted we’d been sitting next to it the whole time.

  “Come on, let's get out of here,” she says, heading for the bathroom door. I follow her out, but we don't get far as Darren and Paul are standing right outside. I wipe under my eyes quickly, hoping I don't look like a crazy racoon from crying.

  “You two coming to Rosie's?” Paul asks, acting oblivious to the fact I've been crying.

  “It's like nine a.m.,” I mutter dismissively.

  “More like ten-thirty,” Darren corrects, and I gape at him for a moment before checking the time on my phone. 10:37. Did I really cry for that long?

  “It's still too early for drinking,” Lizzy says.

  “It's five o'clock somewhere, girls,” Paul calls, already heading out the door. He clearly doesn’t want to wait around anymore.

  “What else are we meant to do when someone dies?” Darren says, shrugging as he follows after Paul. They can drink all they want, but I'm going home to call that damn demon and find out what the hell happened.

  “We should go,” Lizzy says quietly, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What? You cannot be serious.” I cross my arms over my body as I turn to face her, seeing her blank expression.

  “It's what everyone else is doing. We should do the same. People are already going to be talking about what happened yesterday. You need to act as normal as possible,” she explains.

  “You’re talking like I have something to hide,” I whisper, looking around for any prying eyes or listening ears.

  She rests a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know you didn’t kill him, Kay. Please don’t think I’m accusing you, but I know there’s something going on. If you want to keep that something a secret, you’ll have to play along with everyone else.”

  “I hate it when you’re right,” I mutter.

  “Who doesn’t?” she questions with a smile as we make our way out of the office, trying to catch up with the guys.

  Five

  Dead Boss; Undead Detective

  Crowded around a small table, I sip some of my pint while looking at the various emotions playing across my work colleagues' faces. Since we were allowed to leave the office early, everyone ended up at Rosie’s for some drinks. We're scattered across a few separate tables in our own social groups, but with a bit of flittering in between as we all talk. It’s still early, so we’re all inside, unlike after work hours when everyone is spilling out into the street with their pints still in hand. Pubs in London just aren’t big enough to fit the after-work rush, but that doesn’t stop everyone from coming out anyway.

  Most of us seem to have mixed feelings when it comes to our now deceased manager. However, it's hard to speak ill of the dead and all, so we’re mainly forced to make awkward small talk while we pretend this isn't as weird as it clearly is.

  “Bloody freezing outside,” Paul mutters, already halfway through his second drink but still shivering from the cold draft rushing in through the door every time someone comes into the pub.

  “It's the rain. Like fucking ice shards hitting your face,” Darren replies, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it, barely paying attention to everyone.

  “Kayla?” Lizzy says softly.

  “Huh, yeah?” I answer, looking up at her.

  “Are you okay? You seem... quiet,” she prods, as if trying to prompt me into acting more normal. More like myself, anyway. Honestly, I don't think normal has ever been a state of being for me.

  Well, let’s see. I'm currently trying to work out how long I need to stay to not look guilty of anything before leaving, so that I can then go home and summon a stupid demon into my dining room. For the second time this week. All so I can ask it why the hell it fucked up our deal and murdered Jay, but other than that, I'm just peachy.

  “I'm fine, just in shock a little,” I answer instead, knowing that the real story isn't something I can explain here.

  “I think we all are,” Paul cuts in. “I mean, Jay always reminded me of a cockroach, in that he was both disgusting and that he'd survive through anything. I mean he should have been sacked months ago, and yet there he was. Honestly, I'm surprised nobody offed him sooner; he was a snotty little bastard.”

  “Fuck, Paul! You can't say something like that!” Lizzy snaps, her eyes darting to me as if to assess my reaction, but I try to maintain a blank mask on my face.

  “What? You were all thinking it! Don't try and act like you all loved him. We all know he was a wanker,” Paul retorts, before downing the rest of his pint. “Alright, whose round is it?”

  “Yours,” Darren answers with a smirk, actually looking up from his phone for once.

  “Damn
,” Paul mutters, standing. “Same again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah, mate.”

  He turns his head towards me.

  “Sure, why not,” I mumble half-heartedly. It's really too early to be drinking, but I'm not about to be the odd one out. Thankfully, my witch genes give me a slightly higher tolerance for it than humans. The only person at our table who could out drink me and still be sober is Darren, which is why he goes through his drinks so damn quickly.

  Paul saunters off towards the bar to get the drinks, and I sigh. Looks like I may be stuck here longer than I hoped.

  “Ah, peace for a few minutes,” Darren says good-naturedly with a wide smile directed at me and Lizzy. We're drowned in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as I watch Paul leaning against the bar, waiting for the woman's attention so he can buy our drinks.

  “Kay, that guy over there is looking at you,” Lizzy says, nudging my side.

  “As if,” I mutter.

  “He's hot too,” she adds.

  “Liz is right, he's definitely looking, and I suppose he's alright looking,” Darren says. “Great, now I'm reduced to girl talk. Suddenly I want Paul back here already.”

  “Oh, shut up, Darren,” Lizzy snaps. “But seriously, he's cute and most definitely looking your way.” She jerks her head in a vague direction to my left and I turn my head. Instantly I lock eyes with the bright blue ones that are staring straight at me. Lizzy's right, he’s hot.

  Sandy blond hair, lightly tanned skin, and broad muscular shoulders. Damn, he’s seriously hot. I shift my eyes to my second sight to look at what he's got going for him other than his looks. His aura is dark blue, with streaks of sliver that glitter throughout. I catch his eyes again, and he’s staring at me a little unnervingly. I almost jump in my seat when I realise he’s looking at me through his second sight too. He's a witch.